


2. The Phone Call

by believeinlarrystylinson



Series: Just Friends...? [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension, same tags as last time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/believeinlarrystylinson/pseuds/believeinlarrystylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second instalment in this series :) This time it's phone sex. Whoopwhoop. Enjoy and please leave comments and feedback. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	2. The Phone Call

2\. The Phone Call

Neither Louis or Harry approached each other about the dressing room incident.

And during Louis late-night shower wanks, he definitely didn't picture Harry's "coming" face from that day.

No, not at all. 

And no, the texts aren't screenshots saved on Harry's iPhone camera roll that he flips through late at night when he's got a hand wrapped around his length.

Never.

The boys are home for their break from tour. Niall flew back to Ireland to spend time with his family under the radar in Mullingar, Liam and Zayn are both MIA, and Louis and Harry are both in Doncaster and Holmes Chapel, respectively.

Harry's convinced himself that the separation is good, and that maybe his obsession with Louis' flawless facial structure and perfect ass with somehow diffuse while they're two-hundred miles away from each other.

Or rather, he's almost convinced himself that that's the case.

He's getting tired of rereading the texts from that day, the ones that he could recite in his sleep based on how many times he's gotten off from remembering Louis' face and frantic fingers flying across the keyboard trying to type a fast response.

But more than anything, Harry's tired of not talking about what happened. Because as much as he'd just like to blame his hormones and Louis' more than willing attitude, he knows that's not the truth.

And it sucks.

And one night Harry cracks. 

He told himself he wouldn't be the first to call, but all of the hesitation flies out the window when he picks up his phone and dials the number he knows by heart, a picture of the two of them in Australia his caller ID picture.

He's completely stunned and at a loss for words when Louis picks up after the third ring.

"Hey Haz!" Louis voice comes chirping through the receiver. Harry really really wants to hang up now, maybe he should hold this conversation face to face, he could tell him everything, all of his feelings right now, all he has to do is-

But no, what comes out is-

"Hi boo." Harry mentally smacks himself and kicks himself in the crotch. Stupid idiot.

"Why'd you call? I mean, not that I don't want to talk to you, I'm just curious, because uhh.." And it's Louis' turn to mentally kick himself because he sounds like such an ass, and he's felt really quilts around Harry ever since he walked out on him that day.

Harry swallows and almost drops his phone because his palms are so sweaty. Instead he tightens his grip on the phone and decides what he really needs to do is get it out there. And it'll be easier to do it over the phone, when he doesn't have to look Louis straight in the eyes. Right?

"Umm... Lou, I think we should uhh. Talk." Harry stutters.

"Talk about what Harry?" Louis replies warily, knowing perfectly well the conversation that Harry wanted to have.

"I think you know what Louis. Lets not play stupid, shall we?" Harry snaps, not intending to be so harsh but honestly, he's so close to exploding from all of the sexual tension that's built up between the two of them. He can hear Louis' sharp intake of breath through the receiver, and Harry immediately feels bad, but can't find the words to apologize.

"I'm sorry I walked out on you Haz.." Louis whispers, so low that Harry barely catches it. "I mean, I didn't kiss you goodbye or anything and for fuck's sake, we wanked less than 10 feet away from each other! And the fact that we where both wanking to texts we were sending to each other doesn't help!" Louis babbles, wishing that he could see Harry's face as the long pause continues after Louis stops speaking.

"I, uhh. Oh god Louis. I'm sorry but your face when you.." Harry gasps suddenly, remembering all too well the expression of pure bliss and pleasure etched on Louis' pretty features as he backed arched off the couch and into his fist, before collapsing back again, sweaty hair matted in weird formations and pupils still blown wide.

Louis groans softly at Harry's statement.

"Are you saying you remember it?" Louis asks, earnestly and oblivious. Harry laughs hard at that. He loved Louis, he really did, but he could be so oblivious at times, and in some situations, like this for example, Louis having a clue would really help Harry out.

"Yeah, Lou, I do. And I want to see it again." Harry spills, wincing slightly at Louis' audible gasp.

"R-really? But I thought you-"

"It doesn't matter what I thought. I would give anything to do that with you again. I really want it, Lou." Harry whispers, closing his eyes and waiting for Louis' response. Louis' laboured breath his coming in loud and clear through the receiver, and Harry inwardly smacks himself. You pushed too far, Harry, you dumbass.

"I-I'm so sorry Lou, I'm just gonna, yeah okay. Sorry." Harry whispers heart brokenly. His finger hovers over the end call button, but he is cut off by a loud moan resounding in his ear. Harry's mouth goes dry at the sound, and the noise travels straight to his groin.

"Fucking hell, Harry, get your pants off and your cock out. I need this, please." Louis whimpers. Harry gasps audibly at the confirmation that Louis was already naked and fucking touching himself.

For Harry.

That thought in and of itself was almost too hot for Harry to handle. All rational thoughts and questions about "what in the actual fuck are we doing" flew entirely out the window when he could hear Louis' lube slick hand rubbing his hard on. Harry could get enough of the sound, coupled with Louis' tiny whimpers and groans when he flicked his thumb around the head and over the slit. Harry immediately set the phone down on his bedside table, turning speakerphone on, and silently praying to whatever God there is that his mother or sister wouldn't walk in on him in that moment.

"Yeah, Lou. Fuck, okay." Harry groaned, finally getting a hand around himself as soon as his jeans and boxers hit the floor.

"Fuck Harry. You're touching yourself, yeah?" Louis' breathless voice came crackling through the speaker placed by Harry's ear. Harry moaned filthily, deciding that Louis shouldn't be allowed to talk because his voice in and of itself was entirely pornographic, and Harry was especially sensitive to it when he knew that he was the one making Louis' voice go all breathless and raspy like that.

"Yeah Lou. Are you fucking yourself on your fingers yet? I bet you are, you're so eager for it. I bet you're pretending their mine." Harry makes his voice go all low and raspy and he sounds so out of breath, and the sound just travels straight to Louis' hard cock, and he feels it twitch in his hand. Louis reaches for the uncapped lube laying on the bed beside him, and slicks up two of his fingers again, reaching them around to his delicate entrance, whimpering as he fingers dance lightly around the tight rim of muscle. He gasps and moans as he pushes the first finger in, slowly inching his way past the tightness and into the heat.

"Yeah I am Harry. Pretending its you. But I bet yours are longer. Could make me feel so much better." Louis moans breathlessly, rotating his hips down on his finger until he adds another. His brain is overriding his heart at this point. His heart is telling him not to get attached, that's he's pushing too far, that this is a boundary that shouldn't be crossed, but Louis' mind is just repeating a mantra of "it's just Harry" and moremoremoremore. This is the best kind of pleasure blurred with that thin line of pain from the stretch, and Louis can't get enough of it, no matter how morally wrong it is to be getting your best friend off over and stroking yourself to the sound of his voice.

"You bet they are. You have an obsession with my hands. I catch you staring at them all the time. I love it, it only makes me want to fuck you until you can't walk right. I bet your ass is sensitive. So sensitive and tight and hot that no matter how much I stretch you you still won't be able to walk right the next day." Harry breathes, and fuck, Louis makes this noise halfway between a whimper and a groan, and god, that's the hottest thing Harry has ever heard in his life. He knows Louis' jabbed his prostate when he makes that noise again.

"God Louis, do it again. Moan like that again, please, fuck!" Harry feels so pathetic, begging for it like a slut but god, he needs it so bad and he's so close..

"Harry!" Louis suddenly squeaks in that breathy tone that makes Harry go absolutely crazy and fuck, Louis' coming hard, and god, he hasn't come this hard since the day he and Harry wanked together. Harry's head starts spinning as he hears that perfect noise again and he comes just like that, mouth falling open in a loud and pornographic moan, back arching a few inches off his bed and he fucks into his fist one last time, listening to Louis' laboured breathing coming through the speaker.

Louis' head falls back against the pillows as he hears Harry come, and he tries to catch his breath, pulling his quivering fingers away from his ass and wiping them on his sheets. He grabs the box of tissues from his bedside drawer and wipes off his fist and chest. Harry does the same across the line, just trying to will his lungs to calm down and inhale oxygen.

Louis is the first to speak.

"H-Harry?" Louis whispers into the phone, his voice sounded fucked out even though he had only wanked.

"Yeah, Louis?" Harry replied breathlessly, voice raspy from all the moaning and his throat feels really tight and it feels like he can't breathe to be honest.

"I don't know what just.. I'm, uhh. Fuck, Harry.." Louis swears under his breath. How is it that he always has so much to say except for right now?

"You wanted to ask what we're doing and Louis I don't have the answer." Harry finishes for him. Louis gasps slightly, nodding his head even though he knows Harry can't see him. This was another part of their relationship, where they had a habit of finishing each other sentences. Louis wondered sometimes if Harry was telepathic and/or could read his thoughts.

"Right. I just thought we should.." Louis starts, but Harry cuts him off immediately.

"Don't read too much into it Louis, okay? Good night." Harry says into the phone, much harsher than intended. He can practically see Louis' face fall as he hangs up. He throws his phone towards the wall, and if he hears the phone shatter against the drywall he doesn't say anything or make an effort to pick it up. Because of me this happened, Harry realizes. He could have stopped this, but he texted back. He didn't have too. But he did.

And the worst part of all was he needed it again.

He needed to hear Louis make those delicious noises again, needed to hear his laboured breathing, all raspy and breathy in the receiver. 

He needed Louis to call his name as Louis came hard with a hand on his length, two fingers buried inside himself, and Harry's name on his lips.

Harry sat up straight in his bed at the sudden acceptance of his realisation.

He just needed Louis.

And two hundred miles away, Louis lays stunned on his bed, the events of the past 30 minutes catching up with him all at once. He and his best friend had just wanked together, for the second time in three weeks. And Louis had come to his own realisation during his post-orgasm haze.

He liked it.

He wanted it to happen again. Just like the first time, he wanted to come that hard every time. 

He wanted it to keep happening, and the thought made Louis nauseous.

He should not be thinking of his best friend this way, and not to mention the fact that he already knows how Harry feels based on the ending of their phone call. Louis sighs, exasperated. He lies awake for the next hour, tossing and turning and unable to sleep.

Finally, defeated, he texts Harry a one sentence, 4 word text that said everything that Louis couldn't.

What is happening Harry? -Louis xx


End file.
